


The Thief, the Son of Asgard, and a Potentially Regrettable Friendship

by Diary



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Ambiguous Relationships, Bechdel Test Fail, Brothers, Canon Crossover, Canon Divergence - Pre-Thor (2011), Canon Divergence – Pre-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Friendship/Love, Introspection, King Thor (Marvel), Morally Ambiguous Character, POV Male Character, POV Nonhuman, POV Rocket Raccoon, Self-Reflection, Sharing Food/Drinks, The Avengers (2012) Never Happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 03:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: AU. Rocket's shuttle crashes on Asgard, and he meets Allfather Thor. Complete.





	The Thief, the Son of Asgard, and a Potentially Regrettable Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything in the MCU.

It briefly occurs to Rocket that trying to attack Asgard’s king might not be the best idea given the circumstances.

Trying to live his life by following good ideas hasn’t done him enough good to warrant anything but a fleeting acknowledgement of this thought before discarding it. Good ideas either turn out to not be so good, or he finds himself miserable and antsy with boredom and pent-up irritation.

To add insult to his already injured body, the frikking laughing king dodges before waving away the advancing guards.

Arrogant despot better hope he doesn’t get bitten in a _very_ sensitive place, is his thought on the matter. Especially since the dumb guards don’t even have any type of guns.

If he ever gets the stupid idea to trade his gun for medicine again, he resolves to simply shoot himself instead.

“You’re not a typical Midgardian rabbit, are you?”

Finding himself pinned to the ground with a freakishly large hand, he realises, I’m probably going to end up dead.

He’ll admit he shouldn’t have hesitated. However, out of all the insults, no one’s ever thrown ‘rabbit’ at him, and most people ‘round these parts have never even heard of Earth.

Whether he wants to or not, he can’t help but give people credit when they’re somewhat clever or even just a little original in their attempts to tear him down.

He tries to squirm enough to either reach his knocked-away knife or to bite at the hand.

“It’s flattering to see the assassination attempts have started so soon. Perhaps, those who have long opposed my father have finally begun to see me as potentially worthy. Or tell me, though, is this my brother’s doing? Whatever he’s promised you, you should heed me when I tell you that you’re unlikely to be happy with the results of any deal with him.”

Anger floods him, but then, the thought this guy might actually be serious hits him.

From what little he can see of the man’s face, he doesn’t see familiar signs of japing, though, the typical lack of fear and respect is still there.

“You someone worth assassinating? Doubt I’ve ever heard of your brother, but him promising things, does that include credits?”

“I am Thor Odinson, Asgard’s new king and Allfather to the nine realms. My brother, Prince Loki of Asgard, recently sought to displace me. But it’s not surprising he’d find a way to continue even from within a cell.”

And you think someone like me would be hired to take out someone like you, is his contemptuous, sceptical thought.

He’d make anyone who tried to imply he wouldn’t be up for the job sorry, but if he’s honest- well, he’s never taken a suicide mission and doesn’t intend to start now.

“You don’t strike me as the fatherly type, but never mind that. Look, your majesty, I ain’t an assassin. Or at least, no one’s ever made me a good enough offer to turn me into one. My shuttle crashed, your guards dragged me here, and here we are.”

“Loki didn’t send you?”

Guy sounds almost disappointed, he reflects.

“Never heard of him, either. Look, all I know is Asgard used to have this guy named Odin on the throne. He had two or three kids and only one eye. But I don’t even know when he died.”

“He hasn’t. He and my mother are on vacation while I settle into my new role. Do you give me your word, if I let you up, you’ll refrain from attacking me, Rabbit?”

“I’m not a-” It occurs to him, if this Thor doesn’t know about raccoons, he might not know some of his (Rocket’s) own weaknesses, and if Thor’s ready to fight a bunny, he’ll have the advantage of not being one.

“That depends. Your guards going to drag me off if you do? Crash wasn’t my fault. All I’m aiming to do is get off this planet, and I’ll fight anyone who tries stoppin’ me.”

“I give you my word, no one will attack you first.”

“Then, yeah, let me up. I’ll hold to those terms.”

He finds himself standing (without his knife, of course), and he wonders if anyone is going to clue this king in on the fact that kneeling is still kneeling, no matter if it’s done to talk to a little kid, someone short (he’s tall for a raccoon, but he can’t tell people this, because, if he ever comes across anyone who actually knows what a raccoon is, they better not ever be dumb enough to call him one), or to show respect to someone deemed worthy.

It’d be better if this too-young, idiot king with brother issues just stood normally above him.

For an Asgardian, he supposes, Thor doesn’t look too bad, but then, he freely admits he’s never really understood most species’ thoughts on what constitutes attractive.

“Welcome to Asgard, Rabbit. Your shuttle is being examined and should be fixed shortly. Until then, you’re welcome to roam Asgard freely. No harm will come to you. Do you wish for our healers to look over you?”

Hoping whoever’s looking over the shuttle doesn’t find the jewels he wasn’t able to grab before he was dragged away, he says, “Call me Rocket.”

Thor smiles, and as always, there’s a jolt of fear he tries not to let show in his body. More than the fact the people who smile at him usually do so, because, they’re about to try to screw him over, rough him up, or both, he doesn’t like when _anyone_ smiles, even people who don’t even know he’s around and are apparently just smiling at what or whoever due to genuine happiness.

“You appear to be a decent fighter, Rocket. No match for me, of course, but-”

“I could take you and,” he gestures to the guards, “your army any day of the week, pal.”

Thor laughs. “These men and women are royal guards, not part of the Asgardian warrior caste. And having sparred with them all and almost been bested by some, I can say you have no chance of taking them in a fair fight, friend Rocket.”

“Who said anything about fair? And hey, I appreciate the not killing or throwing me in a cell part,” for as long as it lasts, “but I’d never call someone like you a friend.”

Friendship, what a stupid concept. Liking someone and occasionally doing them a solid without directly benefiting at the time is different from the bizarre pictures most people paint of it being some selfless thing that brings out the kinder, more moral side of people.

It’s good to stock up favours. When it comes to that, though, sometimes, liking someone can give a good idea when it’s good to press, pass, or save up, but usually, liking someone makes it cloudy. Liking someone often translates to overlooking faults.

He doesn’t naturally like most people, and the few times he has, has made it clear he has a bad habit of liking the wrong sort of people.

“My brother once said fair is dictated by the victors.”

“Before or after he tried taking your throne?”

“Before,” Thor answers, and he almost feels sorry for the guy with how heavy the tone is. “Long before. I should have paid more attention to him.”

 _Odin’s name is only go_ _ing_ _to get you so far_ , goes through his head. _Gods, that’s what you call yourselves, but you ain’t no god, buddy._

He is, however, a large fighter with guards at his beck-and-call.

Besides, he himself probably isn’t getting his knife back anytime, soon, and the rest of his weapons are in the shuttle.

“I’m fine. I don’t need any healers. Any place I can get some food for no credits around here?”

It doesn’t make much sense, but this flips a switch, and Thor isn’t so much smiling as his whole face is emitting happiness.

…

In a big hall full of tables, there’s a smattering of people eating and drinking, but they all stop when Thor walks in.

Pulling a chair out, Thor nods for him to get on it before accepting a pillow from someone.

He could have pulled the chair out himself (eventually), and it’s not like he’s going to be able to sit at the table the way everyone else is, but still, the fact no one tried to pick him up is good for them.

When he climbs up, Thor sets the pillow on the table, and he abruptly realises: He’s meant to sit on the pillow on top of the table.

Unsure, he settles on it.

“Friends, this is Rocket, a guest of mine. He comes in peace and is not a typical rabbit like those found on Midgard.”

Based on some of the silent reactions, there are Asgardians who know he’s not a rabbit.

Whether any of them will tell their king or not, though…

“Though his size might suggest otherwise, he’s proven himself a decent warrior. Remember this if any of you should wish to challenge him to a fight.”

Thor’s words are sincere, but he’s irritated at the silent reaction of the others.

In truth, he might be a little irritated at Thor’s idiotic, misplaced sincerity, too, but delicious smelling foods and a cup full of beautiful, deep-red wine is set in front of him.

There’s no way to test this food.

Should have gotten around to swiping those antidotes, he thinks.

That kid’s probably going to get herself killed or sick with something else soon enough. Her giggling was annoying, and the fact she was bigger than him would have made her fair game for being bitten, kicked, or scratched. Sure, she seemed decent enough otherwise, but she has a chance to grow up now, and he might not even live another year.

Thor toasts the room, they toast him, and he sits down.

It’s easy enough to poison someone who’s sharing food with you, especially if there’s something harmless to you but deadly to them, he knows, but he’s still careful not to eat anything Thor doesn’t eat first, and he continually switches their goblets.

If Thor or anyone else notices, they don’t say anything, and soon, he’s warm and contentedly full.

It probably isn’t a good idea to slip some silverware into his clothes, but assuming he gets off this planet soon, he could sell them for some decent credits.

“Would you like a tour of the palace, Rocket?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

…

Thor takes him to a huge room full of seemingly endless portraits.

They’re all too high and too big to smuggle out.

“This is my father and mother, Allfather Odin and Queen Mother Frigga.”

The eyepatch is interesting, and he makes a note Thor takes after his mother more than his father when it comes to looks.

“These are the Warrior Three and Lady Sif.” Pointing them out, he gives their names. “Unfortunately, none of them are here now. I think you and they would find one another interesting. And this is my brother, Loki.”

At first, he thinks this is a test to see how he reacts to the image, and he doesn’t particularly feel anything one way or another, but then, he realises: no, Thor just truly _loves_ his brother.

Trying not to sigh, he studies the picture. Loki doesn’t take after either parent or Thor in looks, and he can’t be sure, but from what little he’s seen, Loki doesn’t fit the typical looks of most Asgardians, either.

After showing him some more portraits, Thor kneels back down, and he knows his annoyance is probably misplaced and definitely doesn’t do him any good.

He doesn’t like kids, especially now that he might end up poisoned for making the wrong choice in not swiping some antidotes from one, but he’s come across a few smaller than him, and surprisingly, none of them screamed or cried. One did keep pulling his tail until he yanked at the hair on top of her head, but otherwise, the really small ones never have shown the typical fear or disgust many do.

With them, it makes sense to lower himself down enough they don’t have to strain their head to see his face.

When people do it with him, it’s either a mockery or irritating condescension.

“What you did with your knife, what fighting style is that, Rabbit Rocket?”

“Eh? Oh, it’s just mine.”

It’s going to end up completely tearing his shoulder apart one of these days, and given the injuries from the crash, he can still feel the prickle tingling every time his arm moves, but that move has kept him alive more than once.

“Would you teach me it?”

This is probably his best chance to get his knife back, but at the same time- “Not that I’d object, but it’s doubtful I could. You’re right, I’m not like any typical animal found on Earth. I was genetically enhanced. Being able to twist my shoulders like that is part of it.”

He’s seen normal raccoons before, pathetic creatures, and the truth is, they may be able to do the same thing, but he prefers to think it’s the enhancements, because, the people who did the enhancements were wrong to do them, but he’d rather be like this than any of the disgusting raccoons he saw.

“Still, I imagine you’ve learned many different fighting techniques during your travels. If you’re injuries aren’t too bad, could you teach me some of them?”

“Sure. I’ve learned a lot.”

…

He suspects the sword he’s been fighting with was made for a kid, but he can overlook this.

“What do you mean there are no guns? What kind of idiot planet ruler doesn’t arm their warriors with guns? Ya afraid of them turning on you or som’ing?”

Thor smiles is big and unnervingly broad when he chuckles. “Strong words for someone who has yet to best me in combat. Asgardians have no need for such weapons. We are gods possessing great magics, we are physically stronger than almost all other beings, and most of us prefer more direct forms of combat. It’s more sporting.”

Picking up a goblet and taking a drink, Thor continues, “And I don’t fear any threats to my kingship from my own people. If that day ever comes, I hope I have the sense and decency to abdicate.”

He shakes his head when Thor offers the goblet to him. “Not even your brother? You thought he mighta hired me to kill you. You think he couldn’t flip the loyalty of some Asgardians?”

For a long minute, Thor’s silent, and he adjusts the sword for if he needs to fight his way away.

“Perhaps. Loki is adopted. He’s not Asgardian by birth. But he is one of the cleverest to ever lay claim to Asgard. Are you sure you wouldn’t like something to drink, friend Rocket?”

A shiver goes through him, and looking away, he sees a man approaching.

“Lord Thor, Heimdall sent me to fetch you. What’s that strange creature with the kid’s sword?”

…

After Thor leaves with the unfortunately still-alive, unharmed Skruge man, he finds himself wandering around.

Child’s sword or not, at least, he still has it.

He knows enough to know Asgard fits the definition of aesthetically beautiful, but all the shininess that he can’t possibly take for himself irritates him.

Screaming makes him jump, but looking around, he relaxes some when he sees the cause: A little kid is crying big, snotty tears, because, someone put a cup up on a picnic table, and compared to them, the table’s huge and tall.

He doesn’t understand why there often aren’t adults around during situations like these, and part of him knows it’d be a good idea to just walk away.

Instead, he walks over to poke the kid. “Hey, sobbybritches, makin’ all this noise works now, but it won’t be long ‘til it only gets you shut up in painful ways. You need to start learning to get what you want more directly. Want me to teach you how to climb?”

The tears abruptly stop, and chewing on fingers, the kid stares at him.

“Here, watch me.” Climbing up onto the table and back down, he says, “Now, it’s your turn to try.”

Looking between him and the table, the kid’s expression is clearly dubious.

“It’s alright. I’ll catch ya if you start to fall.”

He wouldn’t blame the kid if this wasn’t reassuring given they’re about the same height and size give or take a few pounds and inches, but giving a tentative nod, the kid starts trying.

It takes a few false starts and him having to reposition arms and legs a few times, but soon, the kid’s climbing up and down like a pro.

He starts to walk away, but the kid calls, “Wanna share, Lord Fox?”

Well, that one’s new, but he supposes it makes sense. The kid probably hasn’t learned about many animals, yet, but of frikken course, this helpless, stupid kid has decided he’s an animal.

Turning back, he scowls, but seeing the cup held out, he realises he is thirsty, and there’s a chance this kid isn’t drinking anything heavily alcoholic. He knows himself, he knows how he can get when he’s just tipsy, never mind drunk, and with limited weaponry and severely limited knowledge of this planet, it’s not a good idea to have any more wine for, at least, a few hours.

The kid gives what it probably thinks is an encouraging smile, but the missing teeth freak him out.

Climbing up, he sits down. “What is it?”

“Ambrosia.”

He takes a few sips. “It’s good.”

The kid nods. “Are you here to see Allfather Thor, Lord Fox?”

“Yeah, you could say that. What about you? You here to see him?”

The kid obviously tries not to laugh but doesn’t quite succeed. “No. My big brother’s gonna be a palace chef someday.”

“Well, doesn’t that sound glamorous,” he comments.

Based on the way the kid happily nods, he imagines the sarcasm completely missed its mark.

“Hey, do you know anything about your king’s brother, Loki?”

“Everyone here knows about Prince Loki,” the kid declares. “He’s a frost giant, but he looks like us. He tried to kill Allfathers Odin and Thor, but Lady Sif and the Warrior Three put him in a special jail room. They’re three warriors who fight by Allfather Thor’s side.”

“You don’t say? The Warrior Three are three warriors, huh?”

Giving him a patient look, the kid holds up three fingers. “Three is this many. I can count to fifteen, but thirty-eight doesn’t come until much longer after it. How many can you count to, Lord Fox?”

“Well, on my fingers and toes, twenty.”

Stupid giggling fills the air. “I use my fingers to count, too.”

They finish the cup.

“You know where a bathroom is around here, kid?”

…

It turns out the palace has a special restroom that either uses extremely advanced technology or outright magic to tailor itself to whoever is using it.

When he comes out, he says, “Thanks, kid.”

Nodding, the kid points to some nearby kids running around with a floating ball. “We’re gonna play in,” the kid says something he can’t decipher. “Wanna come, Lord Fox?”

If he tried to steal that ball, there’d either be even more screaming crying, or some of them might just straight-up murder him. At least, one of them is definitely taller, and one of them is tiny in height but roly-poly enough that being sat on by them would be painful and hard to escape.

“Nah, I’m going to stay here. Have fun, though.”

Showing it definitely has some screws loose, the kid kisses his cheek before doing a strange half-curtsey, half-bow. “Thank you for teaching me, Lord Fox!”

Gingerly touching his cheek, he watches the kids leave.

…

Soon after his bathroom trip, he hears, “There you are, Rabbit Rocket!”

Thor bounds over. “Your shuttle should be fixed by tomorrow. It’s almost time for one of our midday meals. I usually eat with Loki, but I imagine he’d be happy to hear I’m not today. Would you like to meet him?”

There’s almost too much to unpack in these words. ‘One of’? Does Thor mean every meal, or just certain ones? Why doesn’t he just not show up or simply send someone to tell this Loki that he won’t be visiting?

It’s easier when people are just trying to kill, imprison, or otherwise frik me over, he realises.

“Sure, why not? He, uh, he’s heavily restrained, right?”

“Even Loki cannot get through the magics infused within the cell holding him. My mother is a patron of science and arts, an inspirer and champion of creativity, whereas, my father is one of the most skilled wielders of magic and strongest fighter in the universe. Loki’s never been much of a warrior, but he’s an almost perfect combination of our parents.”

He doesn’t want to feel bad for this- all-in-all Thor might not be a bad guy, but he’s not one worthy of any real respect, either.

Stupid Thor obviously has all these conflicted feelings, and telling him how moronic he is for having them wouldn’t be a good idea.

Love is an even more nebulous concept than friendship. He’s never loved anyone, and he never will. People sharing blood, a direct genetic binding, it makes sense to give that a word, but people had to go and complicate that by saying the word meant to describe it ‘family’ could be applied to people without the immediate blood relationship.

This Loki might have tried to kill Thor in the past, Thor genuinely thinks he might be willing, if currently unable, to now, and that’s all Loki should be: A threat to Asgard’s king, dealt with accordingly.

When it comes to him, he couldn’t care less if every other raccoon in the universe was wiped out, but when it comes to others, it makes a certain amount of sense to protect those who share blood. The more people with their blood around, the greater chance that the same things that played a part in making them, genes and blood and DNA, would live on even for a long time after they themselves died.

It doesn’t matter how many personality or other traits Loki shares with Odin and Frigga, he doesn’t share blood with any of them. He isn’t their son, and he’s not Thor’s brother.

He is a threat to Thor someday continuing the bloodline the three of them do share.

“What of your family, Rabbit Rocket?”

“Never knew them. And I’m glad for that. I’m not responsible for nobody but me.”

Thor’s expression is thoughtful. “As much as I love my family and intend to be the best king I can be, I can see the certain appeal such a life would offer.”

He’s so used to pity or contempt, to people thinking his attitude is wrong, that there’s something broken about him because of it, that he can’t fully believe Thor’s sincerity, especially since Thor is equally sincere in loving his family and this Loki.

They get to a door, and Thor withdraws a key.

Uneasiness suddenly sweeps over him, and he considers running.

“You don’t need to fear. Even if Loki were somehow able to escape, he’d have no interest in you. My brother- he only hates the Frost Giants, me, and our father. Everyone else, he only directly harms if they’re an immediate threat to him.”

Pushing the insult at the implication he could never be an immediate threat aside, he responds, “I heard he is a Frost Giant.”

Relocking the door they’ve gone through, Thor nods. “Yes. I’m not proud of it, but I once hated them all. It shouldn’t have taken finding out Loki is one to work through that, but it did. It turns out, friend Rabbit Rocket, they’re a very interesting species. Of course, for anyone who knows Loki, this would be obvious in retrospect.”

“So, you don’t hate any of them anymore?”

“The despicable Laufey who abandoned- the only reason I don’t strike him down is I’m not sure how that would affect Loki.”

“Who’s Laufey?”

Thor withdraws a different key. “I’ll tell you later. In answer to your other question, however, no. They and Asgard could be great allies one day.”

He watches the sequence Thor uses to unlock various locks.

When the door opens, he sees Loki reading inside a glass cage.

“Good midday, Loki,” Thor says. “Asgard has received a new visitor.”

Loki looks up. “Hm.” Walking over to the glass, he peers down. “A raccoon is a strange gift for you to receive.”

He bares his teeth, but before he can make a few things clear, Thor’s talking. “He’s not a gift, brother, but a guest. No doubt you know more about various breeds of rabbits than I do, but in this instance, I have a better understanding of my guest’s nature than you. This is Rocket, and he’s more like Midgardians than most of the animals they rule over. You would respect his warrior nature if you witnessed him sparring.”

The expressions floating across Loki’s face are comedic.

Then, Loki looks at him. “Is that so? My apologies, Rocket. You say you’re a rabbit?”

“I say there’s no one and nothing like me. But I know your brother here isn’t throwing insults when he calls me what he sees.”

A terrifying smile crosses Loki’s face followed by him inclining his head. “Welcome to Asgard, Rocket Raccoon. Perhaps, you and I can talk more in the future.”

…

In the dining hall, he looks down at the goblet of wine.

“I’d rather have ambrosia.”

Surprise crosses Thor’s face, but it’s quickly gone. “If that’s what you’d prefer, by all means. But you do know that those stories of ambrosia giving immortal life and turning one into a god are simply myths, don’t you?”

“Never heard of them. Even if I had, though, there’s no drink or food that could do that. The kid of someone who works here gave me some earlier, and it’s delicious.”

Thor’s creepy smile returns, and he motions a servant over.

Of course, once the ambrosia comes, he realises he can’t switch goblets with Thor anymore.

Screw it, he decides, and drinking the ambrosia, he concentrates on his food.

Everyone eats an ungodly amount, he used to think _he_ was a big eater, and there’s a pleasant amount of never-ending noise and movement going on.

He finds himself eyeing the hammer Thor’s been carrying around. He’d have to wait until the last second, and it’d probably be annoyingly heavy, but if he could manage to get it to his shuttle and leave before anyone realised what’d he done, it’d fetch a good price from someone.

Then, he sees Thor has taken note of him looking.

Shaking his head with a smile, Thor sets the hammer on the table. “If you can pick it up, Rabbit Rocket, you may freely take it.”

It quickly becomes clear this won’t be happening.

“It’s magical.”

“Yes. Mjölnir was made specially for me, and my father further enchanted it so that I can only wield it as long as I’m worthy of Asgard. Some day, when Asgard has a new Allfather or mother, if they are worthy, they shall be able to wield it, too.”

“So, what happens if the planet of Asgard is destroyed but some people manage to escape? Hammer stop working completely?”

Thor’s expression is thoughtful.

“Allfather Thor,” several disgruntled looking people have approached the table, and his hand goes to his sword.

“There was an explosive on the shuttle.”

He smacks his head with his free hand.

Yeah, he’s an idiot, he’ll privately admit. He’d forgotten all about the box and lamp he’d stolen from that weirdo green traveller. He knew not to unplug the box from the lamp without wearing the special gloves he’d also stolen, but if he’s going to be fair, there’s really not many ways any of the Asgardians would have been able to know about this.

“D'ast! If I hadn’t been dragged away when I was all dazed and injured and confused, I coulda said something.”

There’s no good way to try to find out about the jewels, and trying not to sigh, he mentally writes them off as a likely loss.

Thor seems more amused than anything, and he guesses this is a good sign.

Eventually, it’s established he doesn’t have anymore explosives and that his shuttle should be fixed in 3-to-5 days.

He considers going back to drinking the wine.

…

Thor offers to have a royal seamstress make him some clothes, but he’ll just wash what he has on when it’s necessary.

The fact there’s a genuine royal seamstress is completely bizarre.

After supper (how are these people not waddling balls crammed in hover-chairs?), Thor shows him Thor’s chambers before taking him to the ones he’ll be staying in.

The large room is definitely Asgardian child-sized, and the incredibly low-to-the-ground platform bed might have been a toddler’s bed.

It’s not worth getting thrown in a glass cage or worse, he tells himself.

There’ve been people he’s come across who’ve been not cruel, if he believed in genuine kindness, he’d say some of them fit it, who’ve made things easier, made things otherwise inaccessible accessible, and he knows they did it without trying to make him feel bad or indebted.

Thing is, though, he prefers the ones who make things as hard as possible, who’ll never respect or like him even if he does overcome their challenges, who’d sooner kill and eat him than let him get a word out.

Unfortunately, not everyone is like this, and he sometimes has to deal with the not-quite- he isn’t even sure what the right word might be.

…

Flipping himself from a picnic table onto a nearby tree, he peers down at Thor, but before he can attack, a scribe-looking woman comes over. “Majesty, Lord Heimdall has seen a ship of red skinned people entering Nidavellir space. There are children aboard. He’s yet unable to locate their home planet.”

Jumping down onto Thor and clawing at him, he manages to catch the dagger Thor drops.

Moving away from the woman, Thor impresses him by falling backwards, and thus, forcing him to have to scramble to not end up squished.

“Sounds like the Xixix,” he comments.

Kicking him out of the air, Thor almost rolls over on top of him. “You know of these people?”

“Assuming what a ship of them I met told me was true, yeah. They don’t have a planet anymore. This guy named Galactus wiped out both it and almost their entire species.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Thor declares with a frown. Managing to grab him and toss him into the air, Thor somehow manages to get the dagger back. “He had better hope he never comes across my father on my father’s travels. These Xixix, do you believe they deliberately entered the nine realms without permission, Rabbit Rocket?”

He scoffs. “Depends on what you consider deliberate. Not everyone knows or cares that you or your father have said there’s some’thing special about certain areas of space needin’ _permission_ to enter. Xixix are a largely useless race. Few of them, they want to hunt Galactus down to make him pay, but most of ‘em are peaceful. And fleeceable.”

Realising he shouldn’t have admitted that, he quickly continues, “But they don’t have anything worthwhile to trade, and the ones I met, most of them were stupidly honest. They’re either looking for a new place to live, or they’re going to keep travelling, hoping to never run into Galactus again until someone manages to imprison or kill him.”

“Call for a council meeting to convene immediately, my lady,” Thor says. Then, tapping the picnic table three times, he holds the dagger out hilt first. “Would you join today, Rabbit Rocket? We might be able to make use of your insight about these people in this matter.”

What insight, he almost asks. You either decide to kill or enslave them, or you don’t.

Except, Thor probably means whether to _help_ them or let them fend for themselves, and if the former, the best way to do so. After all, so far, Thor’s given every indication of trying to genuinely help him, and this might change if anyone discovers the silverware and toy ball he’s managed to hide away, but for now-

“Why not? Never seen a council meeting at work before.”

…

After the council meeting, there’s a midday meal, and he sticks to sipping ambrosia.

“You’ve met many different people over the course of your travels, Rabbit Rocket.”

“Yeah, that’s true. And almost all of them have regretted it.”

Thor laughs. “I don’t think I’ll be one of them.”

He feels peevish at the fact he knows Thor’s probably right. Strange little Rabbit-Raccoon creature crashed on Asgard, made off with some silverware and a ball, what’s the big deal?

“What if you stayed here even after your shuttle was fixed? We could learn much from you, and you and I could continue sparring.”

“That wouldn’t work. I’m not the type for staying in one place.”

Thor nods. “I’ve noticed. Do you think you ever will be?”

“No. Someday, somehow, I’m gonna have a big ship. No crew. Just me flying through the universe. Take a job when I need to, do whatever I want when I don’t.”

And no one will be able to mess with him, then. He knows people with family and friends and people they can trust even if they don’t like them, they’re safer than he’ll ever be, but supposed marginal safety isn’t worth the price. If people like you, you can disappoint them, and you find yourself changing to make them like you more. If you like people, they can hurt you by deciding to leave or ending up dying.

Even with being able to understand why blood often protects blood, he thinks the universe would be better if everyone just looked out solely for themselves. Protect the babies ‘til they were old enough to be able to rely on themselves, and then, it was everyone out to get the best for themselves. Strong survive and thrive, weak die or worse.

It’d be much harder to con people, he knows, but he’d appreciate the fact there’d be much more honesty. On the whole, the strong are those who can fight like Thor can, not the ones like him who scrap for salvage. Even his talent with weapons isn’t worth much when they decide to fail and someone strong enough to disarm him is around.

“How long have you been a bounty hunter?”

“I only keep track of time when it’s important. And I’m not a bounty hunter. I occasionally catch people and turn them in for bounties. There’s a difference.”

“What about sleeping or bed companions?”

“Not my thing.”

“Ah, well.” Thor shrugs. “I miss when Loki and I were children.”

He’s just going to really hope Thor either means he and Loki literally slept together as kids or, if they did anything more, they were, at least, the equivalent to older Earth teenagers. The brother thing makes it a little more icky still, but since Loki’s adopted-

“I can see what you’re thinking,” Thor declares with a wrinkled face that quickly returns to a fond look. “Here on Asgard many people spend their whole lives sharing a bed with friends and family. All sleeping companions are bed companions, but not all bed companions are sleeping companions. Sleeping companion simply means sleeping. Bed sometimes means something other than sleeping was done.”

“Got it,” he says. “So, uh, you and Loki?”

“We’ve only ever been sleeping companions.”

Oh, that’s a bigger relief than he expected it to be.

He’s never liked literal sleeping near or with people the few times he didn’t have any choice, because, he was always too scared to manage to ever fall into a deep sleep. As for the other, though, there’ve been times he’s wanted it with someone, but the few times he’s done it haven’t been good.

It isn’t as though there are that many options. For all he’s definitely not a typical raccoon, humans have a big instinctive taboo against being with the animals of their planet in such a way, and he can respect this. After all, he’d never be with a typical raccoon or any other animal species from Earth, either. Other non-Earth species, most of them don’t know what to make of him, and they either label him as prey or predator. He’s found ways to work around both when it comes to protecting himself and getting things from them, but so far, he’s managed to avoid ever being forced to give access to his body in such a way in order to survive.

“Even if he was your blood, he tried stealing your throne. I guess I could understand you maybe still respecting him, but how can you still love him?”

He isn’t sure how to decipher the brief look on Thor’s face.

“If you ever love someone, you might understand. Some people believe it’s possible to stop loving someone completely, but I disagree. I’m not sure love for another person can ever completely go away.”

“I’d hope it would, if the person doesn’t deserve it.”

Thor laughs. “Love isn’t- it’s a very strange thing, I admit. But no one suddenly feels love for another due to finding the person deserving of having such a feeling directed at them, Rabbit Rocket.”

“Agree to disagree,” he says.

Nodding, Thor takes another drink. “Have you ever smuggled?”

“Oh, yeah, loads of things, loads of times. Never people, though.”

This isn’t strictly true, but those people, they paid him a bunch to get them out of a bad situation. ‘Trafficking’ might be a more accurate word for what he’s genuinely never done.

“And yet, if the price was right-” Thor replies.

He shrugs. “I know for a fact there are people who, certain things, no price would ever be enough. Doubt I’m one of them, but who knows? I hope I’m not.”

…

After the midday meal, Thor has other work, and he spends the rest of the day playing with some little kids. They actually give him some of their toys, and hopefully, he’ll be off Asgard before any parents or other grown-ups realise this.

At supper, Thor says, “Your shuttle should be fixed by tomorrow night, Rabbit Rocket.”

“Good.” Cleaning his face, he adds, “Hey, uh, I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

Thor pats his back. “You’ve been an interesting guest, my friend. Heimdall has found several potential places to direct the Xixix to if staying in the nine realms isn’t a good fit for them, but I was wondering if you’d give your input? For all that he can see, in some ways, you might be able to offer a more personal insight on certain places and their people.”

“Sure, but I’m not staying long after my shuttle’s fixed.”

“I understand. However, why don’t you stay until the day after tomorrow?”

That probably wouldn’t be a bad idea, he decides. “Yeah. So, tell me about these places.”

…

They go to Thor’s chambers after supper to continue discussing the places.

“Seems to me Heimdall’s done a good job,” he says. “It’s you who’s not sure about something.”

Frowning, Thor nods. “I’ve been speaking to some on the Xixix ship. You mentioned some are looking for a peaceful place to settle, and some will continue drifting through space until the destroyer of their people is neutralised. I believe these fit the latter.”

“Right, and of course, you find this sad. Want to help.” He realises he’s being- he could stand to be a little nicer. “Look, King Thor, they ain’t your people. I guess it’s good there are leaders like you who actually wanna help, but take a lesson from your brother. You can’t help certain people. These people, well, they’re pathetic.”

“How so?”

“They were hurt, and they aren’t going to get over it until the person who hurt them is gone or, at least, punished enough, but they aren’t up to the task of making either happen. So, they’re just drifting. Plenty of people have hurt me, and some of them, I made them pay. Some of them, they never will. It doesn’t matter. If all of them did, I’d still be me. Those people, though, they’d be different if Galactus were taken out.”

“Interesting,” Thor says. “You don’t pity them?”

“Some, sure. I still call ‘em like I see ‘em. I don’t- I may make things worse most of the time, but I try to change things for myself when something isn’t going good. People like them don’t, and I don’t understand that.”

“I can understand that. In fact, I was once like that to a much larger degree. Loki was even more-so. He- hasn’t done anything recently that anyone can detect.”

“What exactly happened with him?”

“The first time I was going to be crowned, it was discovered he was planning to aide Laufey in invading Asgard. He managed to mostly talk his way out of this, though, everyone tried to be more careful when it came to him. Then-”

Sighing, Thor downs the rest of his goblet. “Then, he did worse. I was almost killed, my mother was badly injured, and innocent people, untrained peasants, were greatly harmed. I’m sorry, my friend, but the full story is one that will never be told to outsiders.”

“Fair enough. So, realistically, how long do you think your brother’s gonna stay in that cell before he does even worse again?”

Making a small noise, Thor’s smile is sad when he nods. “I don’t have my mind as far removed from the situation as many think, Rabbit Rocket. When the time comes, I’ll do what I know is best.”

“Yeah, and what do you think is best?”

“We’d best leave it at, you likely wouldn’t agree.”

Then, abruptly, Thor is staring at him in a way that he has to fight to squirm against. “How big a fool do you think I am for continuing to- He’s my brother, no matter what blood runs through our veins. We grew up together. There are times I wasn’t a good brother, and I admit as such, but Loki- he wasn’t some poor abused child who bore the brunt of cruelty from me and our father. He turned against us even after everything he was readily given.”

Unable to help it, he sighs, and knowing this might be a bad idea, he carefully puts a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Hey. Look, Thor, I don’t have the answers. People who can love so deeply, they can do something I’ll never be able to do. I’d, uh, usually, I’d make a crack about all the good it does them, but look at me. I’m constantly making bad choices, deciding to do things that end up making life even harder for me, and most of the time, I know doing these things aren’t gonna do me any good.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool,” he admits. “Sometimes, I think it’d be nice to have someone love me no matter what, but I couldn’t love them back, and being completely honest, as much as I’d like to say I’d be better, the truth is I’d just use and hurt them. People like me and Loki, we’re never going to be like you.”

“If you want my advice, accept that. It’ll hurt, but in my experience, it’s better to know something bad than to hope for something good.”

Thor gently squeezes his hand. “And when I’m forced to go against him the future?”

“You find out what you’re made of,” he states. “Maybe, you’ll be ready, maybe, you won’t.”

Chuckling, Thor moves his hand away. “I suppose that’s the best answer there is. Do you know where you plan to go after you leave Asgard, Rabbit Rocket?”

“Not really. Don’t worry, I’ll get out of the nine realms soon.”

“As long as you don’t cause trouble, you’re always welcome to return. If you’re interested, I have some suggestions on where you might find some valuable opportunities.”

Moving closer, he sits back down. “You’ve pricked my interest.”

…

Wondering how anyone can stand such snoring, he makes sure the keys are safely hidden in his clothes before peering out of Thor’s bedroom.

The hallway is quiet and dark, and listening carefully to any sound coming from his movements, he slips out.

When he gets safely to the room, Loki stares at him with clear shock from inside the glass cage. “I heard the locks being turned, but I was sure it would be my brother. Tell me, Rocket Raccoon, how did you get these keys that King Thor holds the only set of?”

“I had some fun with your brother,” he answers. “If you care, he’s just sound asleep. I would have anyways, but I’ve heard you can get in the royal vault and that there’s some stuff worth selling there. Interested in a business deal, your highness?”

He gets chills down his back from Loki’s smile and laugh.

“Trust Thor to-” Loki shakes his head. “What exactly are you interested in?”

He shrugs. “You give me half of the stuff you take, and I get us off Asgard, drop you off wherever once we leave the nine realms. Thor’s told me about you. I know it’s a risk trusting you not to scam me, but hopefully, I get some things that’ll get me a large amount of credits. If not, I’ll spin stories about how I stole stuff from Odin’s vault. Worthless, useless stuff or not, the point would be, I got it from Odin’s vault.”

“Hm. Impressive. Credits and reputation are that important to you?”

“Guy like me needs credits to survive, and having the right reputation also helps.”

“And you don’t care what this will do to my brother?”

“Not my style to care. Here’s something else Thor told me: You only go after people who are direct threats to you. In what’s probably irony, I trust him. Once I’m out of the nine realms, he’s not coming after me, and if he comes after you, well, I won’t be near enough you for you or him chasing you to do anything to me.”

Loki moves closer to the glass. “It’d be an honour coming to an arrangement with you, Rocket Raccoon. I think we can come to one of extreme mutual benefit.”

…

In the morning, he has breakfast with Thor.

“I’m going to contact my parents and visit Loki today.”

“Have fun doing the first, at least. I have plans of my own.”

Thor’s smile is almost enough to make him feel guilty. “Would you tell the children you’re leaving tomorrow, Rocket? They’ll be sad either way, but it’ll be easier for them if your disappearance from their life isn’t a mystery.”

“Yeah, sure.”

…

He’d expected the kids to be a little disappointed, but he hadn’t expected Thor to be right about them being sad.

There was some crying, some of them literally clung to him until it was time for them to go back home, and he was given even more toys.

By the time he meets Thor for supper, he’s worn out.

“I talked to my parents, and though my father isn’t happy with some of my plans, he agreed not to interfere. My mother was supportive. And your shuttle has been fixed. It’s safe for whenever you’re ready to leave.”

“Good. I’ll leave after breakfast.” Reaching over, he drinks some of Thor’s wine, and at Thor’s look, he explains, “It’s been a long day.”

Handing it back, he sticks to ambrosia for the rest of the meal, and when they’re finished eating, he follows Thor back to Thor’s chambers.

…

In the morning, he sneaks the stuff he’s stolen onto the shuttle, and he’s surprised to find the jewels are still where he hid them.

After breakfast, Thor gives him a container of food and several flasks of ambrosia. “Travel safely, friend Rabbit Rocket.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He holds the sheathed sword out over his hands.

Shaking his head, Thor places a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s yours. You know how to use it well, and I hope it will long serve you in your travels.”

Reattaching the sword to his waist, he nods as best he can. “I hope, someday, your son or daughter takes the throne. That you don’t do anything too stupid before then.”

Thor smiles. “I likely will.”

When Thor presses their foreheads together, he can’t stop himself from nuzzling against the head. “Bye, Thor.”

…

“That went well,” Loki comments. “More or less. The tesseract is a fake. My father must have replaced it along with several other things I’d hoped to take before he left. I doubt even Thor knows where they’ve been relocated to.”

“What’s a tesseract?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Shrugging, he puts the shuttle on autopilot. “What’s my half?”

…

“You don’t strike me as the quiet type,” Loki says. “Yet, you’ve been quiet since we left Asgard. Are you feeling guilty?”

He gives this the scoff it deserves. “You know, I did like your brother. But the problem with him is, he doesn’t understand people very well. Someday, someone worse than me and you combined is going to end up manipulating him.”

“Yes, I’d agree that’s an extremely accurate assessment of Thor.” Loki sighs. “It’s not your fault, you know. Some people are born with a natural charisma. Most people simply can’t help but like them.”

Loki chuckles. “I’ve been called silver-tongued, but Thor’s better at inspiring people than I ever will be.”

“Is that why you hate him?”

“My feelings for Thor will always be complicated.”

If he lets them, so will his, and he decides, he’s not going to let them. Maybe, in some way, he betrayed Thor, too, but he’s not Loki. He gave Thor plenty of warning who he was dealing with from day one, and maybe, he should have tried harder to dissuade Thor of certain things, but he honestly doubts he could have if he had tried.

…

After dropping Loki off on some planet, he’s travelling on his ship when he reads about a huge bounty for this large tree-like creature.

Deciding this could be interesting, he clicks on the details.


End file.
